Cheat day

Celebrity (5)

“Haah… ugh… ha…”

I felt a bit guilty since all I had to do was load the rice sacks while Joo Jiseung and Cha Jichan did the actual carrying. But once we started, I realized lifting those sacks from the ground to shoulder height without stopping was way more exhausting. Joo Jiseung and Cha Jichan just had to walk without bending over, while I had to keep lifting the bags. Plus, they kept coming one after another, making me do a nonstop clean and jerk.

“The production team moved 61 bags, while the cast team…”

Lying on the ground, I just turned my head. It was clear that we’d moved more.

“80 bags,” announced PD Park Sangcheol, hanging his head as if genuinely disappointed.

“Whoa!” Baek Woojin came running over, but none of us could even speak. The three of us just lay there, panting, while Woojin took over the commentary.

“We won, so that means we donate 80 bags of rice, 20kg each, totaling 1,600kg to Suncheon, plus we get 300,000 won, right?”

“You were so confident,” PD Park Sangcheol muttered to the staff nearby.

“They’re monsters, monsters.”

“Can’t win against them,” the game participants muttered, shaking their heads.

PD Park looked puzzled, as if something was bothering him.

“Uh, this isn’t exactly how we envisioned it. There should be some intensity in the game, you know?”

“Are you saying you’re disappointed we moved so many bags?”

Sensing some nonsense coming, I pretended to threaten him, and PD Park gave a helpless smile.

“Of course not.”

“Liar. It seems like you don’t like the idea of a big donation.”

“Right!” Baek Woojin joined in, and PD Park just waved it off, looking resigned.

We got into the red Casper. Woojin, who was still in good shape, took the wheel, and with my size, I rode shotgun while Cha Jichan and Joo Jiseung sat in the back.

Waking up early and doing such intense work left me exhausted, and I quickly dozed off. When I came to, we were passing through Anseong.

“Mm.”

Woojin was focused on driving, Joo Jiseung gazed out the window, and Cha Jichan was asleep with his arms folded.

“I slept like a log.”

“Keep sleeping; I’ll wake you when we reach the rest stop.”

Maybe it’s just in my head, but I feel like there might be quite a few people who recognize us at the rest stop now. I don’t hate it, given how much I’d hoped for this in the past, but it does feel overwhelming sometimes.

I’m afraid of being misunderstood over a small mistake, a thought that never crossed my mind before.

“Do you think there’ll be a lot of people at the rest stop?”

“Not sure? It’s a weekday, so maybe not too crowded. Why?” Woojin asked.

“It sounds silly, but lately, being around lots of people makes me feel kind of self-conscious.”

The car fell silent for a moment.

“I get it,” Joo Jiseung said from the back.

“In the past, I’d throw trash on the street without thinking. But two years ago, a little kid, probably an elementary schooler, pointed at me and said, ‘Mom, look, it’s that actor, Mr. Gungye, and he’s littering.’”

“…”

“I’ve never felt so embarrassed. I still think about it sometimes. After that, I became more mindful of my actions.”

“Same here,” Woojin added, as if he had his own story.

“One time, I had to go to the bathroom really bad, so I parked anywhere I could find and dashed into the nearest building.”

“Bathroom emergency,” I teased, remembering his subway clothing mishap story.

“Oh, come on.”

He shot me a look.

“Anyway, I finally get to the bathroom, and my phone rings. I pick up, and it’s someone furiously asking how I could park right in front of their store. I apologized, but they kept going, and I got a bit annoyed. I mean, this is an emergency here!”

I should’ve known, given the story about the musician with a similar fixation.

“So I went out, intending to give him a piece of my mind. But when he saw me, his expression completely changed, and he said he was a fan.”

“…”

“That was so embarrassing. Not just for parking in front of his store but for trying to argue about it. Ever since then, I’ve been more careful.”

“Bathroom emergency.”

“Oh, stop it!”

“Yeah, even if Woojin had an incident, it’s not fair to tease him.”

“Right, even if he did.”

“Oh, really? You guys are relentless! I’m driving here! Stop testing my patience!”

Honestly, talking with these guys makes my worries feel lighter. Just knowing others share the same concerns gives me the courage to face them.

And besides, no way am I giving up on rest stop food just because of a crowd.

“You’re right. I need to be more mindful of my words and actions, too.”

“Exactly, that’s the key.”

“Mm.”

Cha Jichan woke up to Woojin’s loud voice.

“Where are we?”

“Past Anseong.”

“Let’s stop at a rest area. I need the bathroom.”

“Ugh! Why are you guys like this today? There’s a camera! We’re recording! Stop with the bathroom talk!”

***

We arrived at the rest area where we’d agreed to meet up mid-trip.

Both the crew and we hadn’t eaten breakfast, so we decided to stop at the rest area for a quick bite.

The rest area we arrived at was relatively quiet, and even those who were there didn’t recognize us. It’s funny—I’d been worrying about being recognized, but now that no one actually does, I feel a strange bit of disappointment.

“Let’s get fish cake skewers!” Woojin shouted.

“Fish cake? Rest area food means udon!” I countered.

“What are you talking about? It’s obviously fish cakes.”

“It’s udon.”

As we bickered over fish cakes and udon, I was debating between fishcake udon or tofu skin udon when Jichan darted off in a hurry—he must have been really desperate.

“What about you?” I turned to Jiseung.

“Well… walnut cakes sound good… but roasted potatoes would be nice too.”

“Hold up,” PD Park Sangcheol called out, stopping us.

“It seems like we didn’t get enough footage from the morning game. How about another round here?”

“Oh, come on. Are you that desperate to torture us?” Woojin’s comment made me laugh.

I’d heard before about PD Park being relentless with the actors, and after filming Season 1 of Baekban, I had firsthand experience. Ratings matter, though, so while PD Park’s method can be exhausting, going along with his ideas usually works out for the best.

“What kind of game?” I asked.

“Well, just now Chan-yong said udon and Woojin said fish cakes, right? The two of you can have a debate on which food is the best rest area snack.”

“This is like Baekban Debate!” Woojin protested. “Are you really making us debate over food here? That’s our main gig!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t make you do it for free,” PD Park assured us.

“Then what?”

“The winner gets to keep all of the 300,000 won prize for themselves.”

“And the loser?”

“They’ll have to skip eating.”

“What the heck? If we broadcast stuff like this, viewers will call it torture!”

“It’s fine; I’ll just write an apology letter if needed,” PD Park replied with a shrug, leaving me speechless. Then Jiseung jumped in.

“If Chan-yong and Woojin are debating, what about Ji-chan and me?”

“You get to choose a side. If you pick the winning side, you can share the prize money. If not, well, you’ll join in the suffering,” PD Park explained.

“This guy’s a con artist.”

I never expected to hear the word “con artist” from Jiseung, but he perfectly captured the moment, and I burst out laughing.

“See? When Jiseung calls you a con artist, you know you’ve really gone too far!” Woojin shouted.

“What’s going on?” Jichan, now back, sized up the situation and then came to stand beside me.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I’m going with Chan-yong,” he declared.

There was a brief silence before Jiseung subtly moved over to my side too.

Woojin’s eyes went wide.

“What the heck? Why is everyone picking him?”

“Let’s be real, Woojin—you can’t beat Chan-yong.”

“True, true.”

“We’re not looking to starve here, either. We’re hungry.”

“Wait, does this mean we just can’t have food from the rest area?” Jichan asked PD Park.

“No, it’s for the whole day. You get 300,000 won, but the restriction applies everywhere.”

Now Jiseung and Jichan stood on either side of me with their arms crossed.

“Oh, what am I supposed to do now? This is ridiculous! Why do I have to suffer alone?”

“We’ve got to listen to what the PD says.”

“Looking at him this morning, it seems like he’s determined that at least one of us is going to go hungry today, no matter what happens. Take one for the team.”

“Yeah, you’re the youngest among us,” Jiseung, Jichan, and even I said, all trying to convince Woojin to take the hit. Woojin jumped up in frustration.

“You idiots! This is exactly what he wants! Why are we playing another game right after hauling all those rice sacks?”

“Oh yeah… we did move all those sacks ourselves.”

“Exactly!”

“This is just ridiculous.”

Woojin froze, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, looking thoroughly stunned. His reaction was so priceless, I couldn’t resist teasing him more.

“Exactly, so you’re the one who drove!”

“Oh, come on…”

Woojin clutched his chest in mock despair, then spun around.

“Fine, go ahead. Just do whatever. But if I win, I’m eating all the food by myself, and you all can starve!”

“That won’t happen,” I said with a confident smile, and Jiseung and Jichan nodded in agreement.

“Don’t you dare back out later. I can’t believe this. This is too unfair!”

Woojin stomped his feet, making a big show of it.

“Isn’t this all a bit too sudden? We should get some time to prepare.”

“It doesn’t have to be long,” PD Park said, grinning. “I think it’ll be fun either way, whether Chan-yong wins or Woojin wins.”

“…Jichan,” Woojin said, turning to him with narrowed eyes.

“Huh?”

“You were the one who introduced me to this guy, weren’t you?”

“…Sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot.”

With no time to prepare, we grabbed a spot at one of the outdoor tables at the rest area. I couldn’t help but worry if the impromptu debate would turn out alright.

“Do you prefer Mom or Dad? Dipping sauce or pouring sauce? We’re about to get a taste of one of Korea’s most intense debates in history. Welcome to Baekban Debate! I’m Jiseung Joo.”

“And I’m Jichan Cha.”

With the experience they gained from To the Sky, Jiseung and Jichan smoothly opened the debate.

“Rest area snacks—a wide variety of delicious choices! Today, our two experts will debate which is the ultimate rest area food: fish cake skewers or udon!”

“First, introducing udon expert Chan-yong Ban, who’s reportedly eaten over 1,000 bowls of udon in his lifetime.”

I waved to the audience, looking around confidently.

“And next, the man with those chubby cheeks that people say were built on a foundation of fish cakes, fish cake expert Woojin Baek. Please say hello.”

Woojin shot me a determined glare, looking fierce.

“And how will the winner be decided?”

“We’ll settle it with a vote from the 30 crew members here.”

“So, the one who can sway the crew wins. Chan-yong, why don’t you start?”

“Why?” Woojin suddenly shouted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why does Chan-yong get to go first? It’s because you’re on his side, isn’t it?”

“Well, then you can go first.”

Now that he was on his own, Woojin’s frustration was building up, but he finally launched into his argument.

“According to data released by the Korea Expressway Corporation in 2019, the most popular rest area item is… Americano! Next up: walnut cakes, gukbap, bibimbap, and snacks. And do you know what comes next?”

“I don’t know. What is it?”

“Rice cakes on skewers, hot dogs, and fish cakes. Fishcake udon ranks 9th, and tofu-skin udon is 10th. Here’s my source.”

When Woojin mentioned his “source,” we all fell silent, waiting.

“Well? You said you were going to present your source.”

“Just overlay it with some graphics. I don’t have it on me right now.”

“Then how are we supposed to know if you’re lying or not?”

“You’re doubting my memory?”

“I just want to make sure.”

“It exists,” PD Park said, glancing at his smartphone. It looked like there really was a statistic like that.

“Let me see.”

PD Park showed me the article on his phone, and I gave it a look.

“…Woojin.”

“I told you I was right.”

“Are you messing around right from the start? Do I look like a fool to you?”

“Fool! Haha!”

Jiseung and Jichan burst out laughing at my joke, solidly in my corner as allies.